


fireflies

by itisjosh



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Healing, Humor, Light Angst, Music, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships, Ranboo-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Stargazing, Wilbur Soot-centric, but also good friends who help each other heal :), theyre dumbasses your honour, wilburs dramatic lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28842717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itisjosh/pseuds/itisjosh
Summary: "Why do we always seem to meet somewhere new?" Wilbur laughs, his hair falling in his face as his beanie slips off of his head. "I feel like the universe just brings us together in beautiful places, as a sign of what we have. As a sign of what we've made."Ranboo smiles, looking up at the stars as he ponders over Wilbur's words."Yellow roses, Wilbur. Yellow roses."
Relationships: Ranboo & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 7
Kudos: 242





	fireflies

"I figured I'd find you out here, my beloved Ranboo," Wilbur's voice rings out from across the clearing, his pale form appearing half a second later. Ranboo smiles at his friend, patting the ground next to him. Wilbur sits down by him, kicking out his legs as he leans back, his back hitting the grass. "Why do we always seem to meet somewhere new?" Wilbur laughs, his hair falling in his face as his beanie slips off of his head. "I feel like the universe just brings us together in beautiful places, as a sign of what we have. As a sign of what we've made." 

Ranboo smiles, looking up at the stars as he ponders over Wilbur's words. "Yellow roses, Wilbur. Yellow roses," he reminds his friend, watching as the stars shine against the dull blue of the sky. "You would think that we'd meet in the same places, huh?" He laughs, ducking his head. "Like the ocean or the flower field. But, uh, I guess not," Ranboo sighs, though it's out of contentment more than anything. "I think that the world is beautiful in general," he murmurs. "Sometimes it just takes something outwardly pretty to remind you that it's inside is just as gorgeous." Wilbur turns his head to look at him, a faint smile on his lips. 

"I think that I may disagree with that," he admits. "I think the world in general is ugly. It's corrupt and gross, and there isn't much we can do to fix it anymore. But the outside," Wilbur gestures up at the sky and the stars, he motions to the glowing blue plants around them, the trees that tower over them. "I think the outside is prettier than the interior will ever be. Maybe that's just the cynic in me talking," Wilbur laughs, closing his eyes. "I'd say that the world is broken and we can't fix it anymore. We tried, once. That only made it worse," Ranboo nods along with his words, swaying back and forth as he listens to the crickets chirp. "I'm glad you weren't involved in the war, Ranboo. There were so many of them, and they all, ultimately, led to nothing. No one ever really won."

"No one wins in war," Ranboo agrees. "Do you regret it? The whole, going to war? If you had the chance to do it again, would you? Would you change anything?" Wilbur is silent for a few moments, his eyes still firmly pressed shut. "You don't have to say anything," Ranboo reminds him. "You never have to say anything." 

Wilbur cracks open an eye, grinning up at him. "Ranboo, it's alright. I know my limits."

 _No_ , Ranboo wants to say, _you don't._

"But," Wilbur starts again, "I suppose that I..wouldn't change it. I don't know. There are a lot of things that I did wrong, there's a lot of things that I ruined, but in the end, I think it may have been worth it. Well," Wilbur sighs. "Fuck if I know," he laughs. "That's a very difficult question. I think that I wouldn't change it. It would be better if I _did_ change it, but who knows what would've happened without the wars?" Wilbur clicks his tongue. "I think it's better to think about the future and live in the present rather than reminisce on the past. All the past is is just a burning memory, right?" 

"Right," Ranboo agrees. "You know, I heard Tommy talking about you a few days ago. He said that you were the one who wrote the anthem."

"I did," Wilbur confirms. "Not the new one, but the old one. There used to be a special place," he smiles, closing his eyes again. " _Used_ to be. I think that ended the day that I decided to make a government in front of Technoblade. I think that ended the day I pushed the button to destroy the place I thought I loved. But," Wilbur sighs, opening his eyes again. "Once again, just a burning memory. No point in thinking about it too much. I think that this place is beautiful. Have you ever thought about leaving here, Ranboo? About leaving this hellhole? It's cursed, isn't it? All of this ground is cursed."

Ranboo shrugs, his eyes lighting up when he spots a shooting star. "Shooting star, Wilbur. Make a wish."

"You were the one who saw it," Wilbur protests. "It's your star, not mine."

"If it's my star," Ranboo looks down at him, beaming, "then that means I can do what I want with it. And I want you to make a wish off of it." Wilbur rolls his eyes, but he's smiling, so Ranboo assumes that that's good. 

"Okay," Wilbur sighs, closing his eyes for half a second. "There, wish made. Are you pleased now, my beloved Ranboo?" Ranboo laughs, picking at the grass under his hands. He doesn't think that anyone else has ever been here before, with how untouched it was when he found it. The flowers are all still in bloom, none of their petals gone or removed or broken. Everything here is serene and peaceful, and Ranboo wonders how long that it'll last. 

"What did you wish for?" He asks, watching the sky carefully for another shooting star. Ranboo isn't sure if he believes in them or not, but he doesn't see why he can't hope. Hope, he thinks, is all anyone really has left. It's important to have hope, to believe that things will be better. Without hope, Ranboo thinks, what's the point in doing anything? 

Wilbur grins at him. "Now, I can't tell you that. It won't come true if I say it aloud," Wilbur tells him. "Oh, fireflies," he sits up, shaking his head. Ranboo watches as stray blades of grass fall from his hair, hitting the ground. "You know, I've always liked fireflies," Wilbur laughs. "They're pretty, aren't they? Little glowy boys!" He claps his hands, beaming at Ranboo with the most genuine smile Ranboo has seen ever since he met the man. "I think that I'd like to glow like them. You know, they only glow to attract someone to fuck, right?" 

Ranboo sighs. "You've ruined fireflies for me, Wilbur. Wait- why do _you_ want to g-" Ranboo closes his eyes, covering his mouth with his hand as realisation sets in. Wilbur laughs harder than Ranboo has ever heard him laugh next to him, nearly keeling over with every wheezing gasp of laughter. "You are _so_ disgusting, oh my goodness. I cannot believe you. Wilbur, what is _wrong_ with you?" Wilbur doesn't manage a coherent response, only raising up one hand as he uses the other to grab his stomach, grinning so hard that Ranboo firmly believes that his face might just stick like that. 

"The look-" Wilbur laughs, clapping his hands together as he falls back to the ground. "The look on your face! Oh my god, oh my _god!_ " Wilbur's fits of laughter dissolve off into slightly less delirious giggles, fading off into soft chuckles a few moments later. "Ranboo, you're far too easy to fuck with." Ranboo glares at him, though he hopes Wilbur knows that it's all in good nature. 

"You're such an asshole," Ranboo decides. "God, I can't believe I waited out here for you. I'm leaving," he announces. "I'm leaving, I'm never coming back. You can go be a firefly somewhere far, _far_ away from me."

Wilbur's grin is too contagious, Ranboo thinks. He wishes he could force a frown onto his face to sell the joke, but he really can't, not with his friend laughing and grinning at him as if he's told the funniest possible joke in the world. "Ranboo, you would _never_ leave me. That," Wilbur tells him, "would hurt my feelings. You can be the yellow rose to my firefly, how does that sound?" This time, Ranboo manages a scowl, glaring at the man. 

"You suck. I'm _not_ being the yellow rose to your firefly. Stop. You _menace_. Is- is that what you wished for?" Ranboo sits a little straighter, mock-dread on his face. "No fucking way did you wish to be a firefly. Did you waste your shooting star on- on _that?_ " He throws his hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut. "Wilbur, I think that I have to break this off. I cannot be friends with someone who wants to _glow_ -"

"Who said it was just to attract someone to f-"

"Stop!" Ranboo laughs, interrupting him as fast as he can. "Stop, stop it! You are so unbelievably unfunny, it's ridiculous. I don't like you."

Wilbur beams at him. "Right. You love me."

"No." The word is all it really takes to throw Wilbur into another fit of laughter, and Ranboo watches him keel over once again. Wilbur collapses to the ground, clutching his stomach like he's dying, and Ranboo can't help but smile. 

"Ranboo," Wilbur manages to get out between gasps of breath, "I'm gonna fucking _die_ -"

"You're already dead!" Ranboo laughs, elbowing Wilbur in the side. "You're a _ghost_ , how can you die again?" Wilbur breathes out, seemingly calming himself for a moment. He locks eyes with Ranboo, which he finds to be not nearly as uncomfortable, and grins. 

"Like this."

And then he disappears. 

Ranboo sighs. "Wilbur. Stop doing ghost stuff. You're just flexing on me," he rolls his eyes, pretending like he doesn't flinch when Wilbur suddenly reappears next to him. "You suck. You are such a bad ghost."

"Nahh," Wilbur waves a hand, resting his head on Ranboo's shoulder. "Do you want to hear me sing, my beloved Ranboo?" He asks. "As payment for my..firefly endeavours."

"Do _not_ call them that." 

The former President laughs, his chuckles ringing in Ranboo's ears. "Okay, okay. I've got a great song to sing to you. Wait," he pauses, tapping his chin. "Do you want something more real, or something less painful?" Ranboo blinks, not entirely sure what that means. He pauses for a few seconds, going over the two options in his head before settling on an unspoken third.

"So long as it's not about _fireflies_ , I think I don't mind." Wilbur beams at him, pulling a guitar off of his back that Ranboo didn't even know was there. He assumes that it's something that ghosts can do, though he isn't sure. He'll have to ask later. 

"Life isn't quite what I thought I'd be, when I was a kid on-"

"What?" Ranboo laughs, nearly doubling over at how easy Wilbur's tone is, at how happy he sounds. It's been so long since Ranboo has heard that. He's happy that Wilbur is happy, he's glad that Wilbur is finally healing. They both are, he thinks. Both of them are finally, finally healing after everything. "Wilbur, where is this going?"

Wilbur grins at him, strumming his fingers down the guitar. "Well, if you let me finish, you'd hear, my beloved Ranboo."

"I don't like where this is going." Wilbur snorts, suddenly changing key.

"Well, I've got plenty of other songs. Like," he breathes in, "It's not a felony, it's not even a crime-"

" _What?_ "

Wilbur tilts his head back, laughing so hard that Ranboo thinks it'll be a repeat of the firefly joke. "You really are intent on not letting me finish my songs, huh?"

"Wilbur, I am _scared_ of your songs." Wilbur laughs a little harder, ducking his head as he grips the neck of the guitar a little harder.

"Okay, okay," Wilbur smiles at him, moving over to sit where he had been previously. "No lyrics, how about that?" He strums his fingers along the strings, humming softly to himself. "In all honesty, Ranboo," the man levels him with a look that says so much more than words could ever. "Thank you. For everything. I know that I'm not the easiest person to talk to, but you manage. I think that we're going to be okay. I hope that I've impacted you as much as you have me." 

Ranboo smiles, listening to the music Wilbur makes, listening to the wind blow over his face, ruffling his hair. 

It's nice. 

Everything out here is nice. 

"You don't have to thank me," Ranboo tells him. "What else are friends for, right? We're here to help each other." Wilbur smiles back at him, his eyes soft and slightly less tired than they had been before. 

"Of course, my beloved Ranboo. I still want to say it," Wilbur's playful, teasing, tone drops for a moment. "Thank you. Seriously. It means more to me than I could tell you." 

"The same goes for me, Wilbur. Seriously. You've changed my life, in the good way." 

Wilbur smiles at him, nodding a few times as he taps his other hand on the base of the guitar. "Well, uh, that's good," he murmurs. "That's good. I'll keep doing that. Tell me if I ever fuck something up, okay?"

"Okay," Ranboo smiles at him. "Okay, Wilbur." 

Ranboo turns his gaze back up to the sky, watching as the stars shine against the dark blue. Fireflies land on his shoulders and his legs, glowing for a few moments before they fly away. He listens to Wilbur hum and play his guitar, smiling as he closes his eyes.

Things aren't nearly as bad as he thought they were. 


End file.
